See You Next Week
by Sakura1287
Summary: Draco needs a bit of Counseling to bring the happiness back into his life after the fall of the Dark Lord.


'_The ministry is sending me to counseling'_, thought Draco Malfoy bitterly, walking along bleached white walls scattered with friendly looking witches and wizards desperately shouting inspirational things to him. He quickened his pace, keeping his eyes to the ground so none of these nutters could see his face clearly.

Life in the wizarding world was absolute rubbish since perfect Potter had so valiantly took part in the final showdown against Voldemort. Draco didn't know much about what happened, as Death Eaters hadn't a spare second to chat amongst themselves since the Ministry had immediately gone to great lengths to bring cheer and happiness back into the world. All anyone really knew is that somehow, with a bit of luck, Harry had brought Voldemort to his knees once more with _love _and all that rot. Since then, Scrimgeour had ordered every building in Diagon Alley to be painted in mutinous pastels, and talking baby animals statues encouraged passersby on every corner to live life to the fullest and love their neighbors. Draco shook his head violently, causing a particular dopey looking witch to cry out, "Open your mind, young man! Let a bit of sunshine hit that pale face of yours!"

He scowled, praying that his counselor wouldn't be as ridiculously cheesy and intolerable as this lot.

He remembered the day it happened, clearly. The Death Eaters, they'd met one night, not two years later, and everything felt different. The air was stiller, frowns were thinner, and suddenly Draco knew. That night, either Harry Potter or the great Lord Voldemort would die. And Draco was willing to bet everything he had (which consisted merely of a serpent tattoo on his arm, really) that Harry Potter would be the one to fall, tonight.

He had been sitting at his station, waiting for it all to be over. Hours later, he scarcely even realized that people around him, fellow Death Eaters, were running for their lives as he was so lost in a wonderful daydream of Dementors tormenting first years at Hogwarts and the wizarding community referring to he as the "Young Lord", or something equally flattering.

Before he even heard Snape yelling "Draco, run!" he heard a most repulsive sound and suddenly the room was filled with bright light. Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley were skipping, _skipping _out to where he was stationed, roaring out cries of victory, tears falling from each of their eyes as they petrified shocked Death Eaters left and right.

Draco literally hadn't known what had hit him. He was suddenly stock still, staring up at an overjoyed Ron Weasley who was hoisting his body up on his shoulder.

Sometime after that, Draco blacked out.

Next thing he knew, he was sentenced to a life term of counseling; the ministry knew no other way to drive the evil out of the captured Death Eaters. It was obscenely pointless, but it was that or Azkaban. So Draco opted to waste an hour of his life per week with a bubbly, middle aged, rosy-cheeked witch in a room full of lollies and stuffed bears in order to "amend his ways" or "open his heart to happiness". Or so he imagined in his nightmares.

He looked down at the square parchment in his hand, with a dancing bright red number forty-seven on it. The paper was decorated with swirling flowers, and bits of sparkles zipped by every couple seconds. Knowing he had reached his destination by the red roses and smiley faces decorating the door, he crumpled it in his hand with a sneer. "Disgusting."

He took a moment to brace himself, and with one swift movement, he let himself in the room and gave the counselor his very best intimidating face.

Or rather, that was his plan. Instead what happened was Draco bursting in the room and taking one look at the sleek, slightly curled fire red hair of his counselor. His lip quivered, mid-sneer, and he felt himself falling. Not a moment later, Draco crashed to the floor, completely unconscious.

Ginny Weasley, slightly taken aback by the state of her latest patient, couldn't help but let out a loud, unprofessional giggle.

-

It took Draco only twenty minutes to naturally regain consciousness. Ginny could have easily revived him with a flick of her wand, but she rather liked the image before her; Draco Malfoy curled up in her office chair, hair mussed and wrapped tightly in a pink blanket.

His eyes started fluttering. Ginny stopped watching him and shuffled some papers on her desk, looking anywhere but at the disoriented blond man sitting before her. "You fainted upon entering my office, but according to Ministry standard, that cannot count as part of your hour here. I'll set the timer now for sixty minutes, then." Everything about her voice was business, but Draco didn't reply right away. She could feel his gaze intently focused on her, and it was only now beginning to make her confidence waiver.

"So Little Red Weasley is my assigned counselor," came his slightly airy, cold voice.

Ginny finally chose this moment to look him in the eye. Casually she flipped her nametag around so it was facing him. "That's Miss Ginevra Weasley, thank you."

His eyes narrowed questioningly, as if reading her. "So this is all professional, then? No special treatment for an old Hogwarts friend?"

Ginny didn't let this shake her. "Mr. Malfoy, I would consider you the furthest thing from a friend I ever encountered at Hogwarts. And that includes your old Master's Basilisk. And for the record, the last thing you need now is special treatment."

Draco's eyes flared. "Don't you speak about my Master! You don't know anything about him, you worthless Ministry tool."

She gave him a little half grin. "Draco Malfoy, I'm going to have to ask you to control your temper in this facility." She beamed and added matter of factly, "Anger is not allowed here."

He scowled again.

"I am, in fact, instructed to find out as much about your master as I can, but we can save that for a later day if you'd prefer."

Draco grunted, letting Ginny know that was indeed what he'd prefer. She was about to speak again when he suddenly opened his mouth. "You're not going to get anything out of me, and we're not going to talk about butterbeer and rainbows. So let's just get through this hour, alright?"

Ginny grinned. She'd just spent the last hour with a sobbing Vincent Crabbe, blubbering about his horrendous childhood, and the hour before that she's spent the allotted time dodging hexes being thrown at her by some Death Eater she'd never heard of named Ferdinand Phelps who'd somehow sneaked a wand in. Her job was never dull, and it was never an easy task. Seeing a stubborn Draco Malfoy sitting in front her with his arms firmly crossed just made her even happier that Professor McGonagall had talked her into taking this job after graduating Hogwarts.

"Let's start when you were a child, shall we?" Ginny picked up her quill and unrolled a sheet of parchment, ready to jot down notes about Draco's life.

"The Ministry says I have to come to these things, they don't say I have to talk."

Ginny raised her eyebrows at him, clearly having the upper hand. "Yes, but if they find you haven't been trying to turn your life around through our chats, they will up your sentence to twice a week, and even more if necessary. And what's worse than more time in a Weasley's office, am I right, Mr. Malfoy?"

When he didn't reply, she continued on, unphased. "So, again, let's start with your childhood. Where you introduced to the dark arts from infancy?"

Draco seemed to be deep in thought, trying to find a loophole in the system. When he couldn't find one, he sighed. "Yes. Yes, all right? My Mum wanted to wait until I was a bit older, but my dad- Lucius" he cut himself off, thinking of his father still rotting away in Azkaban, "My dad wanted me to get a head start. There, happy?"

"Are YOU happy, Mr. Malfoy? I do believe your happiness is the concern of these sessions, not mine."

"I have no reason to be happy," he said in a low voice.

Ginny frowned slightly. "All is not lost, Mr. Malfoy."

He gave her a scalded look. "Maybe for _you_."

"You may have lost your Master, but you got away with your life. That's more that can be said for many people in this war." Her voice was rather stiff when she said this, probably thinking about all the people she knew affected in the struggle. However, after a moment, her voice softened. "Think of it as winning your freedom. You no longer have to answer to anyone. Your life is now your own to do with what you please."

He didn't reply.

"Surely you have some happy memories from Hogwarts you can fall back on while you create a new happiness here in the present."

At this, Draco actually chuckled. "My only happy memories from Hogwarts are those in which I was making fun of your family, Weasley."

She almost smiled, which was the exact opposite response he was expecting. "Well, I'm glad to help aid in your happy memories, Mr. Malfoy. Perhaps I could be a source of happiness now, as well?"

Draco wasn't sure exactly how to respond to this, so he didn't.

"What I mean, of course, is that this is not just a job for me. I'm not getting paid on a basis of how many Death Eaters I turn into happy law abiding citizens. I'm just saying I genuinely am concerned about the state of your future and would like to help."

Ginny was a determined witch. She knew that even though some of the Death Eaters assigned to meet her in her office were a lost cause, many of them weren't. And she had a sneaking suspicion that Draco would come around. That's precisely why she mixed up the paperwork so that she ended up with him as one of her patients.

She remembered the day well. It was her first day here at Melinda Hibbles Happiness Headquarters, and Melinda herself handed her five stacks of papers with names on them. These were the names of all the Death Eaters who'd been caught and were still living in the wizarding society. She was to take her own stack to her new office, and drop off the others with her neighbors along the hall. She had dutifully dropped off the first three, but the sheet on top of the last had caught her eye. "Draco Malfoy" it said plainly in black text.

Ginny had always wondered what had become of the blond twit, and something inside her couldn't let him come see just any old counselor. She knew it was wrong, but she snatched his form off the stack, replacing it gently with "Theodore Nott" from her own pile.

The next few days as she waited for Draco's session, sitting through hour after hour of disgruntled Death Eater, she felt a slight flutter in her chest whenever she glanced at the cabinet now holding Draco's form soundly in a folder marked "M".

She had no idea why she was feeling this sort of compassion toward him, but she knew that if Draco Malfoy were to be saved, she wanted to be the one to do it.

"Weasley? Are you all right? You seem to be zoning out."

Ginny snapped back to reality at the sound of his voice. "I'm sorry Mr. Malfoy, where were we?"

"Would you quit calling me that?" He asked, irritated.

Trying to keep a cool composure, she frowned. "Calling you what?"

His temper flared. "Mr. Malfoy! All day it's been Mr. Malfoy this, Mr. Malfoy that!"

"Granted you've only been here fifteen minutes discluding the time in which you were unconscious, I really doubt I've had time to say it many times at all. But for the sake of this meeting, what would you like me to call you?" Ginny couldn't keep the smile off her face.

"Are you always this much of a know it all?"

"I beg your pardon?"

Draco sighed. "Never mind. You must just spend too much time with that insufferable Granger."

Ginny's eyebrows narrowed. "Please do not talk ill of my friends in my office, thank you."

"Don't have such ridiculous friends and I would have nothing to say."

"Mr. Malfoy! That is enough!"

He just stared at her. "Draco."

"What?" she asked, exasperated.

"Draco. You asked me what I wanted you to call me, and I am telling you, Draco."

Ginny didn't try at all to keep the air about them professional any longer. Any thought of compassion she thought she might have had toward him deflated right out of the window. She was having too many flashbacks of Draco tormenting students just like this back in school, so casually without even using an ounce of effort. She knew he hadn't even said anything all that offensive, but just seeing him sitting there with that smirk she knew too well was enough.

"Alright _Draco_, just tell me some fluffy thing about your life that will please the Ministry enough to bring this meeting to a close for the week."

He sat back in his chair, feeling a bit more collected seeing now that Ginny was infuriated. This was how he was used to the Weasleys looking around him.

"Well, it all started in my second year at Hogwarts. I found my weakness - not Harry Potter, not duller than dull History of Magic, but hair, Weasley. Red hair. And just my luck, the only ones who seem to be popping out red-haired girls was your family. Just my luck, eh?"

She didn't speak, just blinked and picked up her pen mindlessly as if she were going to take notes, but didn't move it any further than that.

"So I let it go. And now it's been, what, seven, eight years? All I am saying is that your hair looks even redder when you're upset, and in all honesty, it's a bit cute to see you so ready for me to leave your office. That's happy, isn't it?"

"My - what?" Ginny was completely lost for words.

"And in your sudden rage, you failed to notice that your sweater slipped off your left shoulder. And what a shoulder it is, might I add. That's pretty happy, too."

She hastily grabbed at her sleeve, pulling it all the way up to her neck. "Completely inappropriate-"

"The first happy memory I have since any of this happened is the sight of your face when I walked through this door, eager, ready to strike. Your outfit doesn't look particularly like that of any counselor I've ever encountered. Just how exactly were you planning on 'cheering me up', Weasley?" He gave her a slightly raised eyebrow.

Against her will, Ginny blushed. "Mr. Mal - Draco. This is my profession. I planned to sit you down and speak to you just like any other person who walks into this room."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "I don't believe you." But his voice wasn't cold, it was teasing.

"Fine. I don't care one way or another what you believe. Just as long as it's-" she tapped the giant smiley face on the wall behind her, "happy."

He just grinned at her, not speaking.

Flustered, she tried another question. "Did you ever get involved with anyone romantically?" Realizing what she'd asked, her eyes widened. "Not that I, you know, care or anything, it's just on the list of questions I am encouraged to ask you in order to-"

"Weasley. Ginny. You're not going to find anything happy in my life. I guarantee it." He sank down lower in his seat. "You can just go ahead and toss my form in the 'Lost Cause' folder in that cabinet of yours."

Slowly, Ginny cast her glance over to him. "Well, Draco, I'm not quite sure if I agree with that."

The timer on her desk suddenly started playing the most hideously cheerful song Draco had ever heard.

"Well look at the time! Looks like your session is over, and you have an entire week to dread coming back here again next week!"

"I have no reason to come back next week." His voice was empty sounding; almost sad.

Ginny smiled. "Besides a warrant by the Ministry," she reminded him with raised eyebrows. "Well, Draco, I'm sure you'll find _some _reason to come back." With this, she swept by him, making sure her hair brushed his cheek softly.

She opened the door cheerfully and said loudly, "Well, I think we made progress Mr. Malfoy! I'll see you back here in another week." She leaned back into her office and whispered "Any Ministry officials lurking nearby will assume this means I am getting through to you. So I will see you in a week, right?"

Draco just stared. "Close that door, Ginny Weasley."

Her eyes darted up and down the hallway, making sure no one was watching as she did as she was told. "Why would you choose to be here any longer than the allotted-"

"Did you just flirt with me?"

"Excuse me?" Ginny felt the blush creeping back into her cheeks.

"I didn't stutter, Weasley."

She set her mouth into a straight line. "In a matter of speaking, yes, I did."

"Does everything about this meeting have to be so professional?"

"Being as this is no longer part of the Ministry-required hour, no, I would suppose not."

Draco stood and walked over to the closed door where she was standing. Ginny wasn't sure at all what he was planning to do, and was even a little frightened at the sudden glint in his eyes as he stared her down, as if memorizing her freckles.

He grabbed a lock of her hair and gave it a little tug, perhaps a little rougher than he intended to make it. Before she could say anything at all, he pressed his lips to her own, muffling her gasp as he moved his hand up through her hair. When she finally got her bearings and was fully prepared to kiss him back, she heard a loud knock on her door. They jumped apart, reminding Ginny with a chuckle of her Hogwarts days when she'd been caught kissing a boy in an empty classroom or dark corner of the common room.

"That's probably Gregory Goyle, he was scheduled to come in right after you," she whispered. Then she spoke louder, "I'll be with you in a moment!" They heard a grunt from outside the door. "He'll be fine," she said. Then she turned to Draco shyly, picking up his forms and moving to file them away for a week. "So," she started slowly, "That went well."

"I think I've got a reason to come back now, Weasley."

She glared at him. "You would have to, anyway. Either that or be thrown in Wizard prison."

He gave her a knowing glance. "Like you'd really tell them I was hopeless before you got to kiss me."

"Mr. Malfoy, let us keep the record straight. _You _kissed _me_."

He shrugged. "It takes four lips, babe. And you're the one trying to cheer _me_ up."

She huffed over to the door, back to her professional demeanor, and threw it open. Goyle was outside, completely entranced by the painting of a butterfly outside the door. "I'll be seeing you now, Mr. Goyle." He nodded and came inside.

She turned to Draco and said, "So we'll continue at the same time next week, Mr. Malfoy, I'll see you then."

He gave her a scandalous grin and nodded. "Will we be continuing right where we left off?"

She blushed a third time that day and gave a glance to Goyle. He was completely oblivious. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy. Yes we will."


End file.
